


Pete's Pizza

by etselec



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pete has a pizza place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etselec/pseuds/etselec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I, uh, play bass,” Pete rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.</p><p>Fuck, the hotness meter just went over the scale. Pete immediately went from like a “he’s cute” to a “fuck me” in less than 24 hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pete's Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> kinda inspired by this thing: "this really cute guy rented the apartment over the bakery/flower shop/store i work at and i keep trying to find excuses to be outside when he comes home."

“Good neighborhood,” Gerard said, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. His breath ghosted in front of him.

Mikey simply nodded.

“Grocery store not too far,” he noted (“Gee, you looked up my place before you got here?”), “nice choice, Mikes.” He punched Mikey in the shoulder.

Mikey winced, rubbing his shoulder. “You think I don’t know that? I chose the place, dude.”

“Yeah, but now _I_ am here to judge your choice of place,” Gerard said.

Gerard didn’t live too far from Mikey-- maybe a 45 minute drive with no traffic. But Gerard was busy nowadays; he just moved in with his boyfriend, Frank (who may be the coolest guy _ever_. Mikey might be a little jealous), and he just got a job working for Cartoon Network so he and Mikey never really had time to plan something.  

“God, is the bus stop really this far from your apartment?” Gerard asked, attempting to stuff his hands further into his pockets.

“You’re such a wimp,” Mikey mumbled above his scarf.

“Am not,” Gerard said back.

Mikey rolled his eyes.

When they finally made it to the building, Gerard sighed, relieved. “Pizza place, huh?” he observed. “Could come in handy.”

Mikey turned his head.  There was a pizza place on the first floor of his building and he hadn’t noticed. Oh. The red neon sign displaying “Pete’s Pizza” blinked in the twilight.  “Dunno. Haven’t tried it yet.”

“We should order, then,” Gerard suggested, “you know, you could get to know the people who work there and then, boom, you’re getting free pizza, like, every Saturday or something.”

Mikey snorted. “I’ll think about it.” He ran up the stairs into his apartment, Gerard trailing behind. He stripped off his coat and scarf and threw them to the side as Gerard did the same.

Mikey flopped onto his couch and turned on the TV. “How’s Frank?” Mikey heard nothing for a solid five seconds, so he turned his head. Gerard’s face was scarlet. “Gerard?”

“He, uh,” Gerard started. Mikey wasn’t going to lie, he was scared. Frank was the best boyfriend Gerard had had in a while, “he asked me to marry him.”

Mikey choked on air. “Shit, really? Did you say yes?”

Gerard hesitantly nodded.

“Does Mom know?”

Gerard shook his head and frowned.

“Well, when did he propose?” Mikey asked eagerly.

“Wednesday.”

Today was Friday if Mikey wasn’t mistaken. “You should tell Mom.”

“I don’t know--”

“She’d be _really_ happy, you know.”

“You think?” Gerard asked, eyes wide. He took a seat next to Mikey on the couch. “I don’t know, she might think it’s too soon.”

“You’ve been together for two years,” Mikey countered.

Gerard waved his hand around. “Whatever, I’ll see. And I didn’t come here to talk about Frank,” he stood up, “let’s go check out that pizza place.”

“But I got, like, leftover chicken in the fridge--”

“Mikey.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mikey followed his brother out the door and downstairs. He hoped this pizza place was worth missing his brother spill details about him getting fucking married.

The bell jingled when they walked into the pizza place. It was small and dimly lit, but it was cute. “Uh, hello?” Gerard said.

“Sorry!” someone burst out from behind a door. He ran a hand over his messy, black hair and stepped in front of the cash register. “We don’t really get too many customers at this hour,” he explained sheepishly.

“It’s fine, uh, can we get a large cheese pizza?” Mikey said, “you okay with that, Gerard?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gerard nodded.

“Uh, ten dollars,” the guy said.

Mikey dug his wallet out of his pocket and handed the guy a twenty dollar bill as the guy yelled into the kitchen. He handed Mikey back his change and thanked him.

Mikey tapped his fingers on the counter and looked around. He spotted the guy’s name tag. “Hey, it says your name’s Pete. This place yours?”

Pete shook his head. “Nah, I’m a third generation Pete.  This place was my grandfather’s, then my dad ran this place until he retired, then I took over.”

“Oh, okay.”

Gerard observed the paintings on the wall. “I like the artwork.”

“Thanks,” Pete shrugged, leaning against the counter, “my dad put those up before I was born.”

“Cool. Tell your dad I like ‘em,” Gerard said.

“I’ve never seen you two around here before,” Pete stated, wiping the counter down with a rag, “you guys just move here?”

Mikey nodded. “I just moved into this building. I’m Mikey. Way. Mikey Way. And that’s my brother over there, Gerard,” he pointed behind him, “he’s just visiting.”

“I’m just visiting,” Gerard repeated.

Pete smiled at them. “I’m Pete Wentz,” he smacked himself in the forehead, “but you already knew that, didn’t you? I’m dumb.”

“It’s okay,” Mikey assured.

“Thanks, Mikeyway.”

Mikey blushed at the way Pete said his name like it was one word. It really flowed together and he kind of liked it.

Mikey wasn’t _blind_ , Pete was a very attractive man and Mikey was also very gay, but Pete was, like, _athletic_ looking and had tattoos down his arms (so did Frank, but-- ugh shut up, Mikey). He seemed the furthest away from gay.

“Pete, get your scrawny ass in here!” a voice called from the kitchen.

“I’m coming, Patrick!” Pete yelled back, pushing the door open forcefully. He later returned with a pizza box. “Here you guys go. Enjoy.”

“Thanks Pete,” Mikey took ahold of the box, their fingers brushing together for half a second. Maybe no one noticed. Hopefully. Mikey turned around quickly before Pete could see his face get all red. He let out a breath and left the restaurant, Gerard behind him. He could feel him smiling. “What?”

“Huh?”

“Gerard, I know you’re smiling.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Mikey unlocked his door and set the pizza on the table. “ _Gerard._ ”

“He was cute.”

“Huh?”

“Pete,” Gerard elaborated, “he was cute.”

“Gee, you have a boyfriend-- wait no, you have a _fiancé_ ,” Mikey scowled at him.

Gerard shrugged, taking out a slice of pizza. “Just saying.”

Mikey was confused, but finally it hit him. “Wait, God, oh my God. I just _met_ him!”

Gerard choked on a bit of his pizza. “Mikey what the fuck, it was like a fucking porno in there. Your fingers even _brushed_ together.”

“What the fuck, you noticed that?”

“And he blushed so hard when you handed him the money, I wanted to laugh. Out loud.”

“Shut up. Right now,” Mikey waggled a finger in front of his face.

Gerard moved Mikey’s hand away from his face. “Okay, did you at least think he was cute?”

“Gerard--”

“Mikey, come on!”

“I just want to eat--”

Gerard raised an eyebrow at him.

“Fine! He was hot,” Mikey admitted, “really hot, okay? You happy?”

Gerard started to grin.

“Oh no,” Mikey mumbled.

“Pete and Mikey sittin’ in a tree--”

“Are you _five?_ ” Mikey proceeded to cover his ears with his hands.

“--k-i-s-s-i-n-g--”

“La, la, la, I can’t hear you!”

\--

The next day, Mikey was awoken by a pillow being thrown in his face. He grumbled something before finally snapping his eyes open. “Gerard?”

“Get up, I wanna see if Pete serves breakfast.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Mikey pulled the covers over his head.

“I was kidding,” Gerard sighed and ripped the covers away from Mikey, “but we’re still going out to eat. This cafe I read about has live bands that play in the morning.”

“Sounds lame. It’s probably just some old dudes playing,” Mikey rolled over on to his side.

“Give it a chance, Mikey.”

“Ugh.”

“I know you’re looking to sign bands on to your label.”

Gerard was right. He only had a few bands signed on to Eyeball Records, but they were good bands. “Like I said, just some old dudes.”

“Shut up and get dressed, we’re leaving in fifteen,” Gerard ordered, walking out of the room. “Mikey, I’m serious.”

Mikey groaned. “I know, I know, I’m getting up,” he swung his legs over the side of his bed and grabbed a pair of jeans from off of his floor. He put them on along with a t-shirt, hoodie and leather jacket. When he got into the kitchen, Gerard was already pouring himself a cup of coffee. Figures.

“Coffee?” Gerard asked, his back to Mikey.

“Nah,” Mikey waved him off, sliding his phone off of the counter and into his back pocket.

Gerard screwed on the top of his travel mug. “Wanna ask Pete if he wants to come with?”

“Will you ever fucking leave what happened yesterday alone?”

“Never,” Gerard smirked.

“Hate you,” Mikey scrubbed a hand over his face before opening the door. He let Gerard out first before leaving and locking the door behind him. He stepped into the outdoors, a shiver rippling through him. “J-Jesus, it’s cold."

“Should’ve accepted that coffee, Mikey,” Gerard suddenly appeared next to him, dressed head to toe in warm gear-- scarf, hat, gloves, coat-- while Mikey was just wearing a leather jacket.

“I’m f-fucking freezing,” Mikey cupped his hands in front of his mouth and tried to blow air on to the them to keep them warm, “how far is this place?”

“Just a little bit more,” Gerard said, taking a huge gulp of coffee, “you’ll deal.” He shook Mikey’s shoulders.

Mikey huffed, attempting to try and keep up with Gerard. “My glasses are fogging up.”

“Quit whining.”

Mikey would’ve tackled Gerard to the ground and taken that stupid Gryffindor scarf  and stupid cup of  coffee if he weren’t so fucking cold. This was all because of Gerard and his fucking--

“Mikeyway!” Mikey realized he and Gerard had stopped walking. They were in front of a building with a small entrance. Mikey’s eyes adjusted to realize he was looking at… Pete. Of all fucking people, it was Pete Wentz in a parka standing in front of him. It was too damn early.

“Pete,” Mikey gaped, “what are you doing here?”

Pete rocked on the heels of his shoes. “My band’s playing today.”

 _He’s in a band?_ As if Mikey couldn’t get anymore fucked, Pete Wentz played in a band. Fuck, that was kind of hot.

“Oh?” Mikey said calmly, “what instrument do you play?”

Gerard made a noise that sounded like a snort, but he covered it up with a cough. “Uh, sorry, I’m, uh, gonna go inside and, uh, yeah.”

Mikey widened his eyes at him as if saying _don’t you dare fucking leave me here._ But Gerard, like the little shit he is, raised his eyebrows at him and gave Mikey a thumbs up from behind Pete.

“I, uh, play bass,” Pete rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

Fuck, the hotness meter just went over the scale. Pete immediately went from like a “he’s cute” to a “fuck me” in less than 24 hours. “No shit? I used to play bass in my old band. I still have my bass somewhere.”

Pete smiled genuinely. They stared at each other for a couple seconds before Pete’s gaze dropped to Mikey’s mouth-- but not like that, okay? “Your teeth are chattering.”

“S-sorry?” Mikey asked.

“Your teeth are chattering.”

Mikey shrugged, hopping from foot to foot to keep himself warm. “I wasn’t thinking when I left my apartment today. I didn’t know it would be this cold.”

Pete laughed. “I don’t know how to break it to you, but the performance is outside.” He jabbed his thumb to the left of him where a bunch of tech guys were setting up amps on a stage.

“Oh fuck me,” Mikey mumbled to himself.

Pete giggled. “Hey Mikey?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna, um, borrow my jacket?” Pete gestured to the parka he was wearing.

Mikey shook his head quickly. “What the fuck, no, you need that while you’re up there.”

“Nah,  the adrenaline keeps me warm. Our songs are fast-paced,” Pete assured.

Mikey stared at his Converse. “I don’t know. Like, I don’t even know how I could give it back because if you give it to me, it’s guaranteed I need it to walk home.”

“You could just give it to me at the pizza shop,” Pete suggested. He studied Mike’s worried expression. “Mikey, come _on._ ”

You know what? Mikey was cold. Really fucking cold. “Alright. Thank you.”

Pete didn’t even let Mikey put the parka on himself. All of the sudden, Pete was behind Mikey, helping him stick his arms through the jacket. The jacket smelled like the pizza shop.

Mikey could feel Pete’s breath on the back of his neck, making him shiver again. He stiffened.  

“Are you okay now? You’re still shivering,” Pete observed.

 _It’s not the cold_ , Mikey wanted to say. He shrugged instead.

“Wentz? Where the fuck are you? You’re on in ten minutes!” a gruff voice yelled from inside.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Pete ran inside and out of Mikey’s sight.

Mikey ought to search for Gerard now. God knows where the fuck he could’ve wandered off to. He stepped inside the cafe.

The place was cute, Mikey had to admit. He found Gerard nestled in a chair in the corner, scrolling on his phone. “Gerard, they go on in ten minutes.”

“Oh hey Mikey-- who’s jacket is that?” Gerard furrowed his eyebrows together, looking Mikey up and down.

Mikey felt his cheeks tinge pink. “Um… Pete gave it to me.”

Gerard’s looked like he was going to burst into song or something. Oh God, probably something even worse. “Oh my God. He’s totally into you.”

“He’s not. I’m just really cold and looked really desperate,” Mikey tried to explain.

“That’s adorable.”

“‘s _not!_ ”

“Stop denying it!”

Mikey stuck his tongue out.

“You’re being such a child!”

Mikey closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Ugh, can we forget about it? I have a headache.”

“Fine,” Gerard agreed. He got up with Mikey and they found themselves outside near the stage. “I ordered us food while you were flirting with Pete,” Gerard said once they sat down.

Mikey scowled at him for a second, but his face later softened. “Oh thank God, I’m starving.”

The food arrived a little later. “Gerard, you got me a hot chocolate?”

“You said you were cold before,” Gerard told him.

“Oh, um, thanks,” Mikey wrapped his hand around the mug and sipped.

Up on stage, someone tapped the mic and cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, I’m Patrick. This is Joe, that’s Andy and that’s Pete and we’re Fall Out Boy. Thanks for coming.”

“If you signed them on to your label, wouldn’t it be weird to manage your boyfriend’s band?” Gerard asked, mouthful of eggs.

“Shut up, he’s not my boyfriend and don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“If you broke up with him, would you still have him signed on to the label?” Gerard continued.

“Stop talking,” Mikey snapped, “and no, I would keep them on my label, I’m very professional.”

Gerard was interrupted by the band.  The guy named Patrick started into song-- something about sugar and swinging, but Mikey really wasn’t paying attention. Pete spun in circles and sometimes mouthed the lyrics and Mikey found it adorable. He hadn’t noticed how long he’d been staring at Pete until Gerard interrupted his thoughts.

“God Mikey, stop drooling,” Gerard teased, kicking him in the shin under the table.

Mikey bent down to rub his leg. “Ow, what the fuck.” He and Gerard watched the rest of the set, Gerard’s foot tapping to the beat and Mikey drumming his fingers against the table. Cute bassist or not, Fall Out Boy was a good band.

“They were good,” Gerard said once they got off stage, “you gonna sign them?”

Mikey nodded. “I think I’ll go find them-- but I’m _not_ just signing them because of Pete, okay? They were a good band.”

“Whatever,” Gerard downed the rest of his coffee. “I’m gonna smoke out front. Meet me there when you’re ready.”

“Alright,” they both got up at the same time and went opposite directions. Mikey found the band cleaning up backstage. He spotted Pete first. “Hey Pete!”

“Mikey?” Pete dropped the cord he was holding and tackled a surprised Mikey into a hug. “God, sorry, adrenaline. Just be glad I didn’t, like, kiss you or something.”

Mikey’s eyes widened. “Not that I wouldn’t _want_ to kiss you,” he blurted out. Pete covered his mouth, “shit, okay can we just ignore this?”

Mikey’s mouth felt dry. “Er, yeah.”

“So what’s up Mikey?”

“I was wondering where Patrick and the rest of the band were,” Mikey said, “I kinda need to ask all of you guys something.”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, they’re all in the back,” he cupped his hands around his mouth, “Patrick, Joe, Andy! Guys, get over here!”

Three annoyed men walked over to Pete. Patrick was holding an amp, but set it down once he got there. “What Pete?”

“Mikey said he needed to ask you guys something.”

Mikey nodded, fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. “Uh, hi. I’m Mikey Way of Eyeball Records. I wanted to know if you guys were signed on to a label yet.”

Pete’s eyes widened.

\--

Mikey caught Gerard outside, squishing the butt of his cigarette into the sidewalk. “How’d it go?” he asked. Mikey’s grin told Gerard everything. He pulled Mikey into a hug. “Aw, dude, awesome!”

“I know!” Mikey smiled.

“Pete’s probably in love with you.”

“Oh my God, shut _up._ ”

“Never.”

\--

Gerard had to leave the next morning-- which was a Sunday-- leaving Mikey to pine over Pete and to help out at the studio with Ray and then return back home and watch the cooking channel until 3AM. But Gerard was back to his awesome job and awesome boyfriend-- _no_ \--awesome _fiancé_ \-- wait a minute--

“Gerard!” Mikey yelled from the couch.

“Yeah?” he was still packing. Gerard stumbled into Mikey’s living room, a pair of socks in one hand.

“You never told me anything about you and Frank getting married.”

“Yeah I did. I told you lots.”

“Liar. How did he propose?” Mikey asked.

Gerard turned pink. “Er, we were walking the dog and he told me to hold the leash and suddenly he was on one knee in the park in front of everyone.”

Mikey squinted. “Wasn’t that how you met Frank? His dog tied you up in the park?”

“Yeah,” Gerard was bright red now.

Mikey remembered how Gerard would go on and on about Frank’s tattoos and his dog and how dorky he was. Every single date he went on, Mikey would be the first to hear about it and eventually,  it got kind of annoying. “Continue on with your story.”

Gerard blinked at him. “That’s it. I accidentally let go of the leash and the dog ran away so after I said yes, we spent ten minutes trying to find him.”

“Your face is so red. You’re such a romantic, gross.”

“Shut up.”  
“Oh? You’re telling me to shut up now?” Mikey challenged.

Gerard flipped him off and went back to packing. Mikey walked Gerard to the bus stop fifteen minutes later. He watched the bus disappear into the distance and once it turned the corner, Mikey decided to head back, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. It was then he realized, he was wearing Pete’s coat. Huh.

He ought to return it to him now. Was the pizza place even open on Sundays? Whatever, it was worth a try.

Mikey ran straight to the pizza place and opened the door.

The bell jingled above him. “Uh, hello?”

“Coming!” a voice Mikey identified as Pete said.

Pete studied Mikey. “Oh my God, you’re wearing my jacket.”

“Yeah?” Mikey blinked. “Sorry for not returning it sooner. I--”

“That’s so cute.”

“What.”

“That’s so cute,” Pete repeated, hopping over the counter, “you look like an adorable bear,” he cooed at Mikey’s confused face.

“You’re so oblivious, you know. I’ve been trying to flirt with you these past two days and you don’t seem to get it,” Pete said a little sadly.

“Flirt?” Mikey asked, butterflies in his stomach.

“Yes, flirt.”

Mikey didn’t know what to do so he leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. He pulled away and took off his jacket, laying it on a nearby table. “Apartment 2C,” Mikey blurted out. “Uh, that’s where I live. You could come up… later? I dunno, when you’re done with work.”

Pete placed a kiss on Mikey’s cheek, soft and sweet. “My shift ends in an hour.”

“See you then?”

“Yeah,” Pete agreed.

Mikey grinned at him, exiting the place with a bounce in his step. He called Gerard once he was in his apartment. “I kissed him.”

“Finally,” Gerard said, bored, and hung up. Okay then.

An hour later, Mikey was in the same place he had been since he got home: on the couch watching the cooking channel. Then his doorbell rang, disturbing his thoughts about potato casseroles.

Mikey opened the door, facing Pete. “Hey.”

“Did someone order a large sausage pizza?” Pete smiled suggestively, holding a pizza box out.

Mikey sighed. “Pete, you didn’t have to make a pizza.”

“But I wanted to,” Pete said,  “and I was making a joke, it’s not sausage. It’s plain cheese.”

“I don’t have money.”

“It’s on the house.”

Mikey took the box from him and set it on the counter. “I’m not hungry, though.”

“Leftovers?” Pete suggested.

“Fine,” Mikey accepted, “wanna make out?”

“Hell yes.”

 


End file.
